


Pull the Trigger!

by Penny_Candy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allergic reaction, Gen, Kinda, Or not, could be, depends all on how far you read., implied major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 17:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10949748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_Candy/pseuds/Penny_Candy
Summary: Keith eats something that disagrees with him slightly.Turns galra, goes feral and tries to kill the team.Lance is forced to make a difficult decision.





	1. Chapter 1

            “Oh my god, Hunk! This smells delicious!” Pidge’s delighted exclamation was greeted with a chorus of happy murmurs and nods around the table as Hunk brought out his newest masterpiece, created from the culinary gleanings of the last few planets they’d visited.

 

            Hunk blushed proudly. “Well, I hope you like it. I have good feelings about this particular dish.” He set the bowl of vegetables in a curry-like sauce in the middle of the table and started dishing it out as quickly as people could pass their plates.

 

            Contented mumbles from mouths full of food and the clink of utensils were his reward. The plates were soon scraped clean and passed forward for a second helping.  

 

            Contentment and murmurs of appreciation filled the air. It was one of those rare times of peace in their chaotic and stress-filled lives. Hunk’s cooking was one of those things that was almost always guaranteed to be good, but this time dinner had been fabulous. Lance mournfully scraped the sides of the serving bowl and licked his finger to get the last morsel. Only then did they all notice the one oddity of this bucolic scene.

 

            Keith, still poking at his first plate. A full plate of food that looked extremely out of place among the practically polished dishes remaining on the table. Lance watched him sniff a spoonful dubiously and set it down before asking in astonishment, “Hey, what’s up, man? That’s A-1 grub you’re turning your nose up at!”

 

            Suddenly, Keith was uncomfortable aware of all eyes at the table being on him.  Briefly, his eyes met Hunk’s and he quickly picked up his spoon and stuffed it in his mouth, gave the food a couple desperate, courtesy chews and managed to swallow it without choking himself. He nodded and smiled and scooped up another bite, almost managing not to look quite as queasy as he felt as he lifted it to his mouth and the smell of it made his stomach rebel. No. No good. He couldn't do it. With mingled reluctance and relief, Keith lowered the full spoon to his plate and pushed it sadly aside.

 

            “Keith?” Hunk looked worried. “Is something wrong?”

 

            Keith gave the big guy a reassuring, if half-hearted grin, “Nah, it just tastes funny to me. Makes my tongue feel fuzzy. I’ll just have some goo tonight and extra helpings on your next creation.” Yes, calm, bland goo was exactly what he needed. Or even better, nothing else at all.

 

            Reassured, Hunk beamed at him. Keith sighed and pushed his plate towards Lance who was delighted enough at getting another share of Hunk’s stew that he didn’t even complain about getting Keith’s leftovers. Keith’s stomach roiled as he watched Lance devour the food in record time. Pidge managed to snag one spoonful but it all quickly disappeared. Once it was gone, the smell dissipated from the air and the queasy nausea settled. Keith breathed easier. Yeah, skipping one meal wouldn’t hurt him. He settled for sipping some water and letting the conversation swirl around him.

  
  


\--------

  


            Later, in the common room, Coran was attempting to explain the rules to them for some crazy Altean card game. Shiro was supposed to be playing but his heart wasn’t in it. In truth, he  was more focused on watching Keith than understanding the possible color combinations needed to get a Spare Quintent.

 

            Keith wasn’t looking good, although he was attempting to conceal it. He kept coughing, hacking as if he were trying to clear his throat. His breathing was harsh and his skin looked pale and blotchy. Shiro reached over and touched him on the arm. “Keith?”

 

            Shiro’s alarm level rose another notch as Keith looked at him sluggishly with glassy eyes. “Uh, sorry. What’s up, Shiro?” He coughed harshly, clutching his chest as an extended fit racked his body. This drew everyone’s attention and the card game was temporarily forgotten.

 

            “You don’t look good, buddy.” Keith was scratching unconsciously at his arm, digging at it until there were red lines among the purple blotches.

 

            “Yeah, haven’t been feeling that great tonight,” he wheezed. “I thought it would pass but I think it’s getting worse. I itch everywhere, even on the inside which is _really_ strange. Dunno what it is.”

 

            “You didn’t eat much dinner.” Hunk fretted. “Could it have been something in the food?”

 

            “Everyone else is fine, Hunk. Dinner was great! Absolutely nothing wrong with it, bud.” Lance reassured his friend with a pat on the back. “I ate most of Keith’s plate and there was nothing wrong with it.”

 

            Pidge wasn’t so sure. “Hunk, what exactly was in that stew?” She quickly dragged her laptop over and started cross-checking ingredients against the Altean database as quickly as Hunk could list them off.

 

            “Is he having an allergic reaction?” Shiro’s alarm level was rising even as he maintained a calm and steady exterior. Keith was definitely getting worse. His skin was cold and the purple stain was spreading. Lance brought a blanket and Shiro nodded his thanks as he wrapped it around the hunched-over paladin.

 

            Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. There was one obvious reason why Keith would be affected and not the rest of the group. “Pidge, check those ingredients for interactions with Galra.” There was a moment of stunned silence in the room as that thought hung in the air. Soon, the furious keyboard clicking resumed, accompanied by soft swearing. It was a measure of his distraction that Shiro didn’t bother to scold her for it. He noted that Keith’s nails seemed to be hardening as he pulled his hands under the blanket and Shiro caught a glimpse of sharp canines as Keith coughed again.

 

            “Is he… transforming?” Hunk’s voice was full of anxiety.

 

            Shiro was out of his depth. He shot a pleading look to Coran who shook his head worriedly. “I don’t know. I have never seen this before.” Keith wheezed miserably and curled farther into the blanket, letting it cover him entirely.

 

            “I’ve got it!” Pidge’s triumphant shout gave him a straw to grasp at but the look on her face was not encouraging. “Hunk, that Orange vegetable stalk from Orith 7…”

 

            “Meeshif stalks? I checked! They’re not poisonous to humans and I even used Lance as my Guinea Pig!”

 

            “You what? I thought you wanted my opinion on the flavor!”

 

            “But Hunk, they _are_ poisonous to Galra! And the Riki spices you used for the sauce are hallucinogenic.” All eyes were drawn in horror to the blanketed lump that was the Red Paladin. “Um… maybe we should get him into a pod before something happens.”

 

            Keith had stopped shaking. The wheezing sounds of his breath sounded more and more like growls.

 

            Shiro called his name hesitantly, “Keith? Hey buddy, how you doing?” A snarl emerged from the blanket. That dropped the entire group into a tense, alert status. Shiro spoke in a calm, steady voice as he encircled the tremoring blanket with his arms, “OK, I’d like everyone to just back away slowly and get yourselves to a safe distance. Coran, would you please go prepare a pod?”

 

            As the advisor nodded and slid cautiously from the room, Pidge laughed nervously, “Shiro, I don’t know what you have in mind as a ‘safe distance’ but depending on what comes out of that blanket, there may not be such a thing.” she retreated with her laptop to the far side of the room and waited near the doorway.

 

            “Keith wouldn’t hurt us!” Lance snapped a protest.

 

            His unrealistic attitude grated on Pidge’s nerves and her response was a waspish, “You don’t know if that’s even still Keith in there! Or human, for that matter.”

 

            Shiro shot them both a quelling glare and took a deep breath. “Ok, I’m gonna try and move now and see if I can just carry him to the healing bay as he is. If all goes well, this will be a calm and peaceful move, he’ll go in the pod and we’ll all be able to laugh about this tomorrow as Hunk goes through the kitchen and gets rid of all the anti-galra foods.” He looked down at the growling and hissing blanket. “If all goes well…”

 

            It did not go well.

 

            Shiro shifted to stand up. A rising shriek emerged from under the covers. As the hair stood straight up on the back of his neck, the blanket in his arms shredded from the inside out. The angry glare of feral, yellow eyes met Shiro’s startled ones as sharp, white canines lunged for his throat.

 

            Keith’s teeth gnashed on Shiro’s arm and the piercing shriek of tooth against metal made everyone in the room wince. The snarling yowls coming out of the Red Paladin were enough to set any remaining nerves on edge and the room was filled with chaos, yelling, and flying shreds of fabric that had once been Lance’s blanket.

 

            With his right arm keeping Keith’s teeth from his throat and his left hand holding off one set of Keith’s slashing claws, Shiro was still taking damage as Keith’s other hand grabbed and dug into any exposed piece of him. Keith struck for his face and only Shiro’s arena-honed reflexes allowed him to shimmy aside. Still, Keith’s claws struck the floor perilously close to his face. Grimly, Shiro turned his head and held on, gritting his teeth through the pain as Keith struck again, raking lines across his shoulder.

 

            If he sent Keith flying across the room, it would allow him to get into a proper fighting stance and fend him off but it would also allow the feral, galra child to attack the others. It only took one glance at Lance’s pale face and Pidge’s wide, frightened eyes for Shiro to stiffen his resolve and hold on tighter.

 

            He was almost startled into letting go when he heard Hunk’s bellow. It was followed by a heavy impact as the big paladin launched a flying tackle, jumping in to grab Keith from behind and allow Shiro a moment of breathing room. Thankfully, he took a couple deep breaths and collected himself before he piled back in to hold the young man down.

 

            Unfortunately, Keith was a slippery one and it wasn’t long into their struggle before he managed to kick Hunk in the head and break free with a yowl, heading for the door and escape.

 

             Right towards Pidge.

 

            Frantically, Shiro scrabbled to get a hold on Keith’s foot as he charged past. His lunge failed and he scrabbled uselessly at Keith’s ankle, unable to gain any purchase. He fell to the floor with a thud and scrambled to his feet only in time to watch helplessly, the impending collision at the doorway.

 

            Pidge had recovered from her initial shock. Her laptop set aside, she now stood firmly in the doorway; fighting stance ready and bayard in hand, with determination on her face. Her wrist flicked, a line of green power casually snaked its way through the air and tangled around Keith’s legs, bringing him crashing to the floor. His sulfurous eyes narrowed and his lip curled, exposing sharp teeth as he glared at his new assailant.

 

            “Stop, Keith. I don’t want to hurt you.” Her voice was almost steady.

 

            He screamed and lunged at her.  

 

            The power bolt that surged through her bayard and down the line turned his scream of rage into a cry of pain as he fell to the floor, momentarily stunned. It was enough time for Shiro to scramble forward and grab him again, hauling him back across the room.

 

            “Lance! Do something!” Keith was rapidly shaking off the effects of Pidge’s power whip and would soon regain his feet. He was already twisting around and getting ready to bring his new, natural weapons to bear.  

 

            Shiro blinked, trying to shake off the blood that dripped into his eye and wondered when Keith had managed to get a hit on him there. As he gave Keith’s leg a brutal twist to keep him off-balance, he came to grips with a brutal truth: they were not winning this. Not without some desperate measures.

 

            “Like what?” Lance cried in frustration. “Keith regularly kicks my ass in unarmed combat even when he’s not a purple monster!”

 

            “Shoot him!” Shiro had managed to grab both of Keith’s hands, but he was on his back now and the maddened paladin was bearing down on him. Shiro’s arms trembled with the strain.

 

            “What?” Lance was shocked. “I can’t shoot him. He’s our friend, Shiro!”

 

            “Lance!” Shiro’s shout was strained. This was hard enough when Hunk had been helping him but Hunk was out of the picture now and holding Keith off by himself was impossible. Pidge couldn’t snare Keith without also getting Shiro so she was helpless as well. Lance was the only solution left. “Shoot him! Now!”

 

            Trembling, Lance summoned his bayard with a sob. “No. I can’t…” Even so, he raised the blaster into position; the weight comfortable in his hands, the balance light and perfect as the sight settled on the mottled-purple skin of his friend. His finger hovered over the trigger. He hesitated.

 

            Having momentarily stunned the black paladin with an elbow strike, Keith raised his head, sensing the new threat. As Lance looked through the scope, into those golden eyes, he wondered. Was Keith still in there? He had to be, didn't he? The impulsive, sarcastic, brooding paladin he spent every day pestering just in order to get a rise out of him; The guy who’s rare heartfelt smile made it possible to push away the homesickness just a bit longer. The guy who never gave up on a fight, ever. His eyes prickled and his vision misted momentarily.

 

            “Do it!” The command was more of a desperate gasp. “Now!”

 

            Keith snarled as he returned his attention to the man holding him. He drew back for a killing stroke and Lance's indecisive finger still hovered over the trigger.

 

            “Lance,” Pidge screamed, “Pull the fucking trigger!”

 

            Lance squeezed gently and closed his eyes, letting the tears fall.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm.... Lance is an excellent shot. What are the chances that he missed? 
> 
> mwahahaha. none. 
> 
> What are the chances the shot was fatal?
> 
> Mwahahahahahaha!!!!
> 
> Ok, evil laughter aside, for those of you who like MCD, stop right here and wallow in the suffering.  
> For those of you who don't... please continue on to chapter 2!  
> (I'll post it right now so you don't have to suffer longer than necessary.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> epilogue

Lance sat cross-legged in front of the pod. His neck twinged with the pain of being craned back at an uncomfortable angle for so long but he wouldn’t trade the position for anything. It was the perfect angle to watch Keith breathing; to count the number of times his chest rose and fell and to study that little worry-frown line that seemed to have etched itself permanently in between his eyes. It was beautiful.

 

Lance didn’t even bother turning around when he felt footsteps approaching. By the pacing and the way they hesitated halfway from the door, he knew who it was. 

 

“Hey, Shiro.”

 

“Hey, yourself. Mind if I keep you company?”

 

Lance waved absently at the empty space beside him and Shiro folded himself down into a warm bulk beside the blue paladin. 

 

“Hunk and Pidge are with Coran in the kitchen storage checking everything against the database and making a list of forbidden foods so this won't happen again.”

 

Lance stared at the face in the pod and grunted only the smallest of acknowledgement. 

 

“How are you doing?”

 

Lance barked a quiet laugh. “I dunno,  Shiro.  I shot my teammate. How do you think?”

 

With a sigh, Shiro pulled his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms on top of them. He paused for a long, thoughtful moment. “I’m sorry. I don't have any good, inspirational advice for you this time, Lance.” He paused for a long moment and the next words were soft enough Lance questioned whether they were meant for him or if Shiro was trying to comfort himself, “It's a hard thing to hurt someone you care about.”

 

Lance remembered Shiro’s story about injuring Matt to take his place in the arena. He unglued his eyes from Keith’s pod long enough to look at the older paladin.

 

Shiro was staring into space with an unfocused gaze that hinted his mind was actually somewhere else. Lance cleared his throat. When that failed, he cautiously reached over and laid his hand on the paladin’s shoulder. “Shiro?”

 

It was several long breaths before Shiro’s eyes refocused on the here-and-now. Lance waited as patiently as he could before saying, “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t worry. It’s ok.” Shiro found a tentative smile from somewhere and gave it to Lance. “It’s gonna be ok for you too. You’ll see.”  He looked up at the familiar face in the pod, “I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” And, as his voice trailed off, Lance was pretty sure Shiro was aiming the comment more at himself than at Lance.

 

Then Shiro looked over at him with a grin full of mischief, “Actually, I can see it now.  We get home and you’re showing off your scars to the pretty girls down on the beach… ‘Oh, I got this one during that fight against the 6-armed squid with the knife tentacles.’ or ‘That? That’s nothing. Just me getting blasted out of my ship at 300 feet and landing in a tree.’ And then… Keith will take his shirt off and when they ask, he’ll say…”

 

“Shiro… no.”

 

Completely ignoring the whine of impending horror, his grin got bigger and he continued on, “He’ll say, ‘This is the one I got when Lance shot me at close range when I had an allergic reaction to an orange space vegetable.’”

 

Lance groaned and hid the pink of his face in his arms. “Oh God, He’s never gonna let me live this down. Never. I will be paying for that shot for the rest of my life.”

 

“It was a great shot.”

 

“I know, but sweet cheese and crackers, I’m gonna be hearing about this from the minute he gets out of that pod until the day one of us dies. And with my luck, he’ll want it carved on a tombstone or something just so I’ll never, ever forget it.”

 

Shiro reached over and put a comforting arm around him and when Lance looked up, he just smiled and said, “Yeah. Isn’t it great?”

 

Lance smiled back and then looked up at the scowling face in the pod. Yeah, it was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There!
> 
> This whole little story was inspired by Rae at https://raerara.tumblr.com/  
> She drew a quick Lance sketch of the old Piglet/zombie pooh meme and it inspired me to create this.
> 
> So, no matter how bad you think your art is, it may be good enough to inspire someone else. Don't give up.
> 
> (pst, if you pester Rae on tumblr she may be inclined to post the sketch)


End file.
